


More Than Just a Captain

by bluemadridista



Series: Transfer Tragedies [5]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Transfer Window, Universe Alteration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 18:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4359836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluemadridista/pseuds/bluemadridista
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In this installment of the series, we see Isco's emotional reaction to the news of Iker's departure from Real Madrid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Than Just a Captain

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything. 
> 
> Universe Alterations: I changed Isco's relationship with his father to suit my needs.

“Isco…” Álvaro spoke softly as he entered the room where his boyfriend had fallen asleep while they watched an after-dinner movie. Álvaro sat down on the couch beside Isco’s slumbering body. “Isco…” He spoke a little louder, and nudged his side. He needed to wake him.

Isco stirred, and groaned. “Hmm?” His eyes fluttered open, and a small smile formed on his lips. “Did I fall asleep during our movie?”

Álvaro nodded. “Yes, babe, you did, but you need to wake up now.”

The sense of urgency in his boyfriend’s voice cleared Isco’s mind, and he sat up on the couch. He rubbed his eyes, and ran a hand through his hair. “What’s wrong?”

“I just got some bad news on my phone.”

“What? Do you have to go back to Italy early?”

Álvaro shook his head. “No, no. It’s nothing to do with me, really. It’s about Iker.”

“Iker?!” Isco’s eyes widened. “What happened to him?”

“He’s leaving, Isco.”

Isco immediately began to shake his head frantically. “No, that’s just a rumor. People are just making up things to sell papers, and get everyone in a frenzy. It’s not true.” He shook his head so hard that his neck began to ache.

“Isco… It was confirmed. He’s going to Porto.”

“No.” He still shook his head, but he had slowed now, and his eyes filled with tears. “No. He won’t. He can’t. He wouldn’t.” He pulled his legs up to his chest, and wrapped his arms around them. “No, he wouldn’t.”

“It’s confirmed, Isco.”

“NO IT’S NOT! YOU DON’T KNOW HIM, ÁLVARO!”

Álvaro’s brow furrowed. He had been playing with Iker longer than Isco, but he understood that Isco had formed a strange bond with the captain that Álvaro had never experienced, despite having had a great deal of respect for the man.

“I’m sorry, Isco. I don’t know what to tell you.” He pulled up the article about Iker’s departure on his phone, and showed it to Isco.

Tears streamed down Isco’s cheeks, and he buried his face against his knees.

Álvaro watched helplessly as his boyfriend began to mumble, “He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.”

 _I broke him_ , he thought. He grabbed Isco’s phone to send a text message to a number not found in his contact list: _This is Morata. Isco has lost it. I don’t know what to do. I didn’t know who else to contact._

“I just got a text message,” Cristiano announced. He and James were in the midst of saying their goodbyes to Iker. They had decided it was best to heed his warning about Perez… at least for now. Cristiano had no intention to cower to him the next day, however. He had exactly one day to bully him around, and then the fuckery stopped.

“It’s probably Perez,” James growled.

Iker smiled at him. He sounded like an excitable little puppy.

“It’s Isco,” Cristiano said, opening the message.

James rolled his eyes. Isco and Cristiano may have had a short thing, but it was supposed to be over now. Sometimes he thought Isco hadn’t gotten the message.

“No. It’s Morata from Isco’s phone.”

“Morata?” James and Iker asked simultaneously.

“They’re still seeing each other even though Morata moved to Italy,” Cristiano explained. “He says Isco ‘lost it.’ Lost what? What is that supposed to mean?”

“Lost it can mean went crazy.” James rolled his eyes again. “What’s his problem?”

Cristiano called Isco’s phone. Álvaro answered promptly and explained the situation. Cristiano did a lot of nodding, and hung up the phone. “Apparently Isco curled up into a ball and cried when he told him that you were leaving,” Cristiano explained to Iker.

Iker winced, and bit his lips. He had no idea his teammates and friends were going to take his departure this hard. He had a strange mix of appreciation and guilt coursing through him. “I should call him.”

Cristiano shook his head. “Morata said he would talk. He tried to get him on the phone with me.”

“Is he here in Madrid, or in Italy with Morata?”

“I think he’s here.”

“I’ll go see him then.”

“Go see him? There’s paparazzi all over your place.”

“I don’t care. I can’t leave him there like that.”

“I can go,” Cristiano offered. “I’ll get him to call you.”

Iker shook his head, and dragged a hand through his hair. “No, it won’t be the same. Isco is… well, he’s different than you. He’s even different than James. I need to go see him. Will you leave out the front at the same time that I slip out back? Maybe they’ll be distracted by you, and I can get out.”

Cristiano sighed. Why did he let himself think for a second that he could talk Iker out of this? “Sure, of course. Maybe James and I can stop on the front steps, and make out. That’s sure to catch their attention.”

“Cris!!” James swatted his arm. “Don’t even joke. We would be in so much trouble.”

“Trouble…” Cris scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Come on, James. Let’s go, so Iker can make it out.”

“Give me a head start,” Iker said. “I have to gather my things.”

 

Sergio returned home from the market thirty minutes after he left. He had two bags in each hand, and a long, slender paper bag clenched between his teeth. He carried the grocery bags to the kitchen, and placed them on the island in the center of the room. He took the paper bag from his mouth, and called out to Iker.

“Iker! Where are you?” He walked through the house, pulling the paper bag apart to unveil a small bouquet of roses that had been hidden inside. “Iker! You in the shower?”

Sergio walked into Iker’s bedroom. He didn’t hear the water running in his private bathroom. He smelled no traces of the body wash that normally wafted through the bedroom and into the hallway after Iker showered. “Iker!” he shouted as he entered the empty bathroom. His brow furrowed as he glanced around the room.

He was about to turn and walk out of the room when he spotted a white piece of paper taped to the mirror. He plucked it from the glass, and read the note scrawled on it.

_I knew you’d come in here looking for me. I had to go see Isco. I’ll be home as soon as I can. I love you._

Sergio exhaled loudly, and dropped the note onto the sink. Why would Iker leave to see Isco when he knew he’d be back soon to cook dinner for them? He considered calling Iker’s cell phone, but decided against it. If Iker braved the paparazzi outside, he must have had serious motivation.

 

It was Álvaro who answered the door when Iker rang the bell at Isco’s house. He immediately apologized. “I didn’t mean for you to come here. I just don’t know what to do with him. I knew he would be sad, but I didn’t know he would be this bad.”

“Don’t worry about it, really.” Iker walked into the house, and patted Álvaro on the shoulder. “I’m sorry to have upset him so much.” Iker fought to keep his voice level as regret and guilt rumbled around his stomach.

“It’s not you, Iker. We all know that. He’s in the living room on the couch. I’m making tea in the kitchen.”

“Sure, go ahead. I’ll sit with him.”

“He needs you…” Álvaro muttered as he walked off toward the kitchen. “I didn’t help at all.”

Iker frowned, and bit his lip. He hated that it wasn’t only his life that was being torn apart by this move. He walked slowly into the living room. Isco was curled into a ball on the end of his couch. Iker could hear the faint sound of his sniffling, and his sobbing was visible in the way his upper body shook.

“Isco…” He whispered as he sat down on the couch next to him.

“Hmm?” Isco lifted his head from where it was pressed against his knees. He squinted against the invasion of light.

“Isco, I’m sorry…” Iker draped his arm over his back, and rubbed in gentle circles.

“Iker?” Isco fell against Iker, and wrapped his arms around him. “You’re here?”

“I’m here.” He wrapped his arms around Isco, and kissed his head.

“But you’re leaving,” Isco sobbed.

“I’m so sorry, Isco. You know I don’t want to leave. I would never want to leave you, or any of the guys.”

“What will I do without you?”

“You’ll be okay. Sergio will be a great captain for you guys.”

“You know you’re more than just a captain to me, Iker.”

Iker ran a hand through Isco’s hair, and kissed his forehead.

“You’re like a father to me, Iker,” Isco continued.

“I’m not _that_ old,” Iker argued, joking to stop from crying.

“It’s not about that. You’ve helped me so much with everything since we met. You’ve taught me about being a father, about being a better player… You helped me get over the pain of Álvaro leaving. You helped me keep our relationship despite the distance. Who am I going to talk to when I’m feeling insecure about it? You know my dad disowned me when he found out I was bisexual. You’re all I’ve got.”

Iker swiped at Isco’s hair when a tear fell from his eye, and plopped onto the shiny black strands. He sniffed, and pulled Isco closer. “I will always be there for you, no matter how far I go.”

“Please don’t go.” Isco sobbed, and clung to him.

“I don’t have a choice, Isco. I swear, if I did… If I had a choice, I would never, ever leave you. I would never _choose_ to leave Madrid. It’s my home.”

“Why isn’t there something you can do?”

“They’re not giving me the choice.”

“I need you to stay though.”

Iker sighed. Isco was truly like a child sometimes. He knew what he needed, and, no matter what anyone said, that’s what he wanted. “I am only a one-hour flight away. I will come back as often as I can. You can call me any time. We can Skype. I’ll be on Whatsapp. I am still there for you, Isco. I may not live in the same city, but I’ll never abandon you.”

“I love you, Iker,” he whispered.

The defeated tone in his voice made Iker start to cry. He knew that Isco didn’t believe. He knew that he felt abandoned, that he felt like he was losing another father.

Iker replied in the most earnest tone he could muster while trying (and failing) to hold back his tears, “I love you too.”

 

“Sese!” Iker shouted out to Sergio as soon as he entered the house. He walked toward the kitchen when the scent of Sergio’s famous paella wafted into the entryway. “I’m sorry I left! Isco is a mess, baby. I can’t believe it.”

Sergio met him at the door to the kitchen, greeting him with a soft kiss on his lips. “You don’t have to apologize,” he whispered, kissing him again. “You have a visitor.”

“A visitor?”

“A visitor. In the living room. Go. I’ll finish up dinner.”

“I love you like no other.”

Sergio stole one more kiss, and turned back to the dinner he was preparing. “You better.”

Iker started to walk out, but turned back to ask, “Hey… Who’s my visitor?”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry it took longer to get this part up. I hope you all enjoy it. Also, sorry it's sad. :/ I look forward to your comments. I love hearing from you guys, especially about this series. It has been so difficult to write.


End file.
